River of Bloodlines
by gyrfalcon122
Summary: Prequel to Detective or Defective. This is the story of how L and Mandy met. Romance, mystery, pain, and hope. Probably should read Detective first, though. Come and enjoy! R'nR.


River of Bloodlines

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. If I did, I would sell it to RobinRocks and Narroch. I only own the idea of Mandy.

Okay! Here it is, the not so long awaited prequel to Detective or Defective? I hope you all like it! I'm sorry I haven't updated Detective yet. I'm getting to it, it's just taking me longer than I expected. It should be up soon, keep checking. I think I make it clear, but just so there's no confusion: L is 15, Mandy is 12, A is 10, Light (though I doubt he's going to make an appearance in this story) is 8, B is 8, Mello is 5, Matt is 4, and Near isn't born yet. This story begins in the year 1994.

Enjoy!

XXX

If it was one thing Mandy River knew, it was that she was gifted. She was twelve years old, tall for her age, with lustrous black hair and mysterious green eyes. She should have been starting middle school, but in a week the young beauty would be starting at Kurosaki High. She also had a quite a well-rounded education in the occult, Hinduism, and Christianity, as well as odd religions not well known. She was a girl with an understanding and unsatable thirst for knowledge.

So young Mandy tested what she thought was fate and happily sought out the most beautiful butterfly she could find, on her father's large summer estate, and caught it. She carefully carried it to a hidden glade behind her parent's large summer cottage and set it down on the grass. It didn't fly away, only flapped its wings lazily and nibbled on a blade of grass. Mandy sat, staring at the beautiful monarch for what seemed like hours. She contemplated it, from its furry antennae to the sticky legs holding it shakily on the grass. She wondered if what she was doing was safe.

The Butterfly Effect is a subtle thing. If you squint and turn your head a certain way, you can maybe see it flit before your eyes. Like a light breeze, it can move through our lives unseen. So perhaps it's not such a surprise that when this silly young girl tempted her fate and cruelly killed that butterfly, she had no idea about the horrible repercussions awaiting her. The thing about fate, unfortunately, is that it has no sense of humor.

XXX

Mandy slept fitfully that night, locked in a torturous dream. She was running barefoot over rocks and twigs, bloodying her feet and ankles. The raven-haired girl didn't know whether she was running away from or to something. All she knew was fear and pain. Her opaque white sleeping gown fluttered and snapped around her in the damp wind and ebony hair whipped around her in the cold breeze, fanning out like a dark cloak.

Suddenly, she tripped and fell forward onto her hands and knees. Emerald eyes widened as she looked at what caught her feet. It was a boy, perhaps fifteen, with black, messy hair and pale skin. She shuffled towards him, tearing her gown and muddying it in the newly falling rain. Mandy took him softly in her arms and held him close, checking for consciousness. He groaned, but pale eyelids remain resolutely shut. Mandy cradled the boy in her arms and whispered words of encouragement, frantically trying to think of a way to get them to safety.

A dark, oppressing shadow fell over them, stopping the girl's words mid-sentence. Mandy gasped, afraid to look up, but ashamed to think that she may die without knowing whom her attacker was. Her ebony head turned, and green eyes widened. A black form, tall and deformed loomed over the frightened child. The only things visible were its crimson eyes, sparkling manically in the night.

Then Mandy screamed because she knew what would kill her and this strange boy in her arms. Mandy's grip tightened and she felt something wet and hot on them. Looking down proved to be a mistake, however, as the sight of bright red blood almost caused the girl to pass out. Her once white dress was now a macabre mixture of fabric, dirt, and blood; it was sickeningly dark red, and torn almost to shreds. Gulping back vomit and tears, Mandy looked up into the 'thing's' eyes again, letting her own slide shut as it descended upon her.

Mandy awoke sobbing. She quickly checked her nightgown, relieved to see it was once more opaque white and pristine. The girl wiped her wet eyes and took a few minutes to stare into the darkness of her room. Soon, however, the shadows became too much for her and she threw the sheets off her slim body and jogged to her parents' room down the hall. Mandy drew her mother's blankets back and slipped in beside her. Sarah River awoke, saw her normally withdrawn daughter snuggle up close, and put strong arms of protection around the 12 year old. Mandy let a few tears leak out, then fell into a deep, black sleep.

XXX

The police would later say that they wouldn't even have known there was a young girl at the scene of the murder had she not been the one to call them. They spent more time looking for her than they did examining the scene. Deputy Chief Webb finally had the bright idea to check under the bed where the murder occurred. He gingerly brushed the blood-soaked sheets away from the floor and looked under the king-sized bed. Lying there was little Mandy, curled into a tight ball, white gown splattered red from her parent's fatal wounds.

Webb helped the frightened pre-teen out and gave her a blanket to cover herself. He wiped a smear of dried blood from her cheek and sent her to the station. The coroners packaged up Mandy's parents and drove them to the morgue for cause of death, though it was stunningly obvious- the multiple stab wounds littering their bodies.

The police got next to nothing out of Mandy, only her name and her parents' names. After almost five hours of endless questions, Mandy finally dissolved into tears, repeating over and over, "Sorry…Sorry…"

XXX

In Winchester, England, in Wammy's House for Gifted Orphans, L was interrupted in his minute study of one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's mystery novels. Watari walked in, holding a plate of chocolate donuts in one hand and a case file in the other. The kindly old man set them both beside the young genius. Only now turning 15, L was already the 'World's Greatest Detective'.

"I have a few of the newest cases for you, L. One is in Boise, Idaho. A serial murder, the man is kidnapping women form their homes and mutilating them for hours until he finally kills them, leaving them in a nearby river. A second is in London. The police say a young 12 year old girl stabbed her parents in their sleep and then called Scotland Yard. She's not talking much, however. A third is-" But he stopped as the spider-like young man turned his obsidian gaze to Watari,

"What about the second one?" Watari gaped,

"But, L… That case is pretty much solved, all that's left is to get a confession form the girl.." L shook his head, sending spiky, unkept hair into a tumble.

"Has the police found evidence of the girl's involvement?" He asked, bringing his legs up from a cross-legged position to a crouch. Watari watched as the boy balanced on the balls of his feet on the chair. The old man shook his head,

"Well, no, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before she confesses." Watari explained, hoping to move on.

L swiveled in his chair to face the man. He put the tiny dessert fork down with a pale, skinny hand and stated authoritatively,

"We will take the family murder case." Watari scowled,

"L, this is an easy case. You haven't needed these easy breaks in years; why is now different? Now, this serial murder is challenging, important-"

"You seem quick to pass off the murder of two humans as unimportant, Wammy. As are you quick to sign this young girl's death warrant." L interrupted, eyes flashing. "If no one will find the truth through facts and evidence- but only decide in their hearts who is guilty- then why do we do this work? Aren't we supposed to convict the guilty and release the innocent?" Watari sighed, L was so opinionated and childish- he just had to have his way,

"Very well, L. But I warn you, don't let this young girl coerce you."

"Fear not, Wammy. If she is in fact proven to be our murderer, I will not hesitate to put her in jail." Apparently, pleased with L's answer, Watari left the case file on the boy's table and walked out, closing the door behind him.

XXX

With no new evidence to hold young Mandy, the Scotland Yard had no choice but to let her go three days later. Mandy stepped up to her cold house for the first time since her parents' murders and trembled. The twelve year old unlocked the front door with its immaculate paint job in vibrant white. Mandy chuckled, wondering why her whole house wasn't stained red. She gazed up at the large three-story home with a look of great trepidation. Green orbs studied the unlit windows with drawn curtains and sighed. She didn't want to be back, yet she had no where else to go.

Mandy stood, frozen on her front step, feeling completely and utterly alone. Black, waist-length hair was lifted by a frigid wind, chilling the orphan to her bones.

Suddenly, feet crunched up the white-stone walk, alerting the teary-eyed girl to another's presence. She spun around, eyes wide and ready with an angry retort. Her words fell at her black-clad feet, however, when she saw an elderly man standing in the middle of her driveway. The older man took a further step and bowed slightly, saying

"I hope I am not inconveniencing you, Miss, but I am here on behalf of an important detective called here to help you with your parent's case. You may call me Watari." Mandy sized him up, face morphing into a glacial mask. The man had a black suit with white button-down dress shirt underneath and polished black loafers. He had kind brown eyes and a wrinkled face. He wasn't particularly appealing to the grieving girl's attention, but she nodded and opened the door to them.

"Fine, but only for a moment." Watari followed her in, letting her direct him to the spacious living room. Two love seats and one large three-seater were situated around a large glass coffee table capable of holding several trays of exquisite snack dishes. The entire sitting room had a Chinese motif, with wall scrolls with hand-painted formal calligraphy, and the couches were no different, being a dark cinnamon red. Mandy sat on one love seat, pulling her left leg up to sit on, and gestured to the three-seater for her temporary guest.

"Now, what questions do you have for me, detective L?" The calm young girl asked, folding her hands in her lap. Watari looked shocked for all of two seconds before taking a shiny black computer out of his briefcase and setting it up on the coffee table, turning it on. While it booted up, he answered,

"Well, Miss River, in light of your recent loss, we have reason to believe that you have imperative information for us." Mandy raised a sculpted brow, something akin to anger flitted across her face. By now the laptop was ready and L could both see and hear the young girl.

"You mean I'm a suspect. Please, Mr. Watari, don't insult my intelligence. I've just been held for the maximum time in the Scotland Yard Jail, I know exactly what you all think I did, and I'm telling you now, I did not kill my parents." L looked up from where he was fidgeting with his white shirt cuff and caught emerald eyes. He studied her for a moment, then, as Watari was still fumbling for words, he reasoned,

"We must view this case from every possible angle. You were found at the scene of the crime. What are we supposed to think? Why was a twelve year old girl doing in her parent's bed?" Mandy jumped as L's computerized voice came over the speakers of the laptop, but answered calmly,

"I'd had a bad dream and did what every young child would do if they were scared. I sought the comfort of my mother." L smiled, this bright young girl was not so different from him…

"What were you doing under the bed? You called the police, why hide afterwards?" L asked, probing deeper. If they were to exempt her from the list of suspects, he had to be thorough, and she had to tell them the truth. The 15 year old wasn't as worried about that as he should be, however; he sensed in her the same need for justice that drove him onwards.

"I wasn't sure if my parent's attackers were still in the house, and while it seemed unlikely that they would come back into the bedroom, I wanted to make sure. I crawled out to phone Scotland Yard and then went aback into hiding." Mandy sighed, a look of exhaustion crept its way onto her face.

"Why didn't you come out when the police arrived? Surely you could hear them conversing."

"I was scared! I didn't know whom to trust, and when Inspector Webb found me, I knew they would blame me." Mandy's temper flared again, forcing L to realize she'd had all these questions thrown at her before. He changed tact,

"Miss River, I know you've been through a lot recently but you need to help us help you. I need all the information you can give us. Do you understand?" L instantly regretted what he said as Mandy's porcelain face transformed from a look of disinterest to extreme frustration and anger,

"Understand? Understa- do you understand? How every one I come in contact with thinks I murdered my parents. The police, who are supposed to help me catch their real murderers, are too busy trying to break me; they aren't even trying," Now she was standing, yelling at the computer, "My friends, who were asked to come in and tell the police what they thought of my mental stability. No, 'famous detective L' I don't understand. Now, I believe it is time for you to lea-"

"I do not believe you killed your parents." L's electronic voice cut through the distraught girl's tirade, stopping Mandy in her tracks. She gaped at the computer, trying to see through the lie. L sighed,

"I am here on your behalf, not Scotland Yard. I want to find Mr. and Mrs. River's murderers and bind them with the one thing I can." Mandy raised an eyebrow, truly skeptical. How could 'famous detective L', with all the nations of the world's governments at his command, only have one power at his disposal?

"What?" Mandy asked, confused. L answered quickly before shutting off communications,

"Justice."

XXX

Watari strolled into L's private study with a metaphorical dark cloud of doom hanging over his head. L was going to get some sense knocked into him whether he liked it or not. L, who had been practically raised by the man, knew all of his emotions and physical faces. He tried to head him off at the pass,

"Why hello, Wammy. Not a very productive interview, but I know our next one will be better. Tea?" The insomniac refused to look up from his rubix cube, which only fueled the older man's fury further.

"Do you really believe that girl is innocent? She was hiding something, you know it, and I know it. She's just playing you. You must realize that! All she wants is a way out, and you just about handed her the 'get out of jail free' card! Are you so taken with her that you will jeopardize, not only this easy case, but your reputation as well."

"Watari, I-" L tried to start, but Watari wasn't going to let him get his way this time,

"There are just some things that don't add up, L. Why would she hide from the police? Why did every single person we interviewed say she was unstable and a clever manipulator? " Watari took a breath to calm himself and L tried to speak again,

"Wammy, I think-" But the snowy-haired man ignored him.

"Why was there blood on her night dress when she said her mom told her to hide before the 'murderers' even entered the room? What do you think we should do? We're looking for something that's not here, L! Surely you must realize that." Watari finished, taking deep, steady breaths. He watched as L finished the last few squares of the rubix cube and carefully set it down. Then the skinny detective spoke in his usual monotone voice,

"I think we should enroll her in our orphanage."

XXX

Bwahahahahaha! You know, the best part about is that you can spout off about random religions and not get sued or punched for it. WooHoo! And no one knows if I actually believe what I write about or not! Ha. I know it's a short chapter, but I BS-ed halfway through it as it is, and I didn't want to put any more details in. So there. A cyber cookie and a dedication for the next chapter to the person who can tell me where the 'Kurosaki' (first paragraph) came from! Good luck.

Just so you know, I live off of reviews, I really do. So keep my brain cells alive with your constructive criticism. Thank you.


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